Psychosis
by tikitikirevenge
Summary: My name is Samus Aran. This is not a diary, it is a story. This is not the story of my life, it is the story of your death.


**_PSYCHOSIS _**  
by tikitikirevenge

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**Preface**

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My name is Samus Aran. This is not a diary; it is a story. This is not the story of my life; it is the story of your death.

The name I have given will be familiar to you. Depending on your point of view, I have acquired either celebrity or notoriety, perhaps both. Unusual circumstances notwithstanding, you will meet me soon.

At the time I write this preface, my last bounty was the Space Pirate leader, Ridley. He was my greatest and most bitter enemy. I had many reasons to loathe him; and him, me. We had met and fought countless times before; we understood each other completely, from the motivations that drove us, to the strategies and tactics we employed. We knew each other better than friends or lovers would. In a sense, in our mutual hatred we completed each other.

I killed him, on a lifeless, toxic planet which had no name. It was a beautiful hunt, the best of my life, filled with mind games and reverse psychology and light and shadow and anger and pain and claws and guns and fire and ice and life and death. He merely brought me to within a nanometre of my life; I killed him. In doing this, I finally understood that I had no equals, no betters, no boundaries, and no fears. I am champion of the universe and nobody can live or kill better than me.

I have an opportunity now to segue back into my original line of thought – the work of art you now hold in your hands or read on your screen. Whatever you wish to call it – diary, letter, journal, stream-of-consciousness, or memoir – it is my gift to you, and I hope with all of my heart that you appreciate it.

There are two reasons why I have written, am writing, and will write this. The first reason is because, after all that has happened, I still have one thing left to prove. In the months since I killed Ridley, I have (had?) estranged contact with the outside world. I have still been listening, though, and I have heard the stories they spread. 'She's lost her mind,' they say, 'it happens to all of the bounty hunters eventually. She's not human any more.'

This work of art is proof that I have not lost a single shred of sanity. I am more in control of my mind than ever, and as you can see, I have plenty to say. That is my first reason for writing this: so that you will see how sane I still am.

The second reason I write this is because I am better than you. I will put down every piece of information I can think of that might prolong your lifespan by a few seconds. I crave challenge, and perhaps through my writing I will find a worthy opponent one day.

So that is why you read this now. Use the information I give you to defend yourself however you please. Set traps, build weapons, or lock yourself in a steel room in the middle of nowhere, if you think it will help. Then, when I find you and you are at my mercy, I will explain to you why you failed.

At this point, if you have any last requests, you may give them to me – I will pass on any inoffensive messages you might have, or hunt someone else in revenge, provided you can pay me once you're dead.

I will also take suggestions. You will not be the last person to read this message, and if you believe that there is something I haven't written that other readers ought to know, or if you would like me to leave an interesting reminiscence, I would be glad to oblige. Rest assured that you will have a paragraph, at the very least, in this work.

If you kill me, then keep this work, and flaunt it as a trophy – when I have died fighting, I should like to be remembered for my work, not my death. Rest assured that that is how I shall die; I could theoretically live forever, and I will never take my own life as that would be the same as conceding to a far weaker opponent.

There is a table of contents, attached to the end of this document, which may help you sort through the stories of my victories and find the hints and the near-failures.

And good luck, stranger, for my sake if not yours. May you be smarter than those who came before you.

Samus Aran.

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**A/N:** I hope that the chapter was self-explanatory. Any suggestions or criticisms would be welcome, although a half-hearted 'this is kind of okay' review would be just as good. Expect more when inspiration next strikes. 


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